


Forty More Dollars

by Withstarryeyes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean and Reader realtionship, Epilepsy, Epileptic!Reader, F/M, M/M, Multi, One-Shot, Other, Reader Insert, Seizures, Short, fits if you're a girl or a guy, no pronoun reader, reader isn't gendered, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6036175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withstarryeyes/pseuds/Withstarryeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have epilepsy and unfortunately have lost your job and insurance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forty More Dollars

Sluggish eyes travel around a dark room. The ceiling fan is spinning in dizzying circles. You can hear an engine pull up, all vroom and headlights and -- oh the door is open. 

“Y/N?” The voice is husky and your lips curve up even though you don’t remember telling them to. 

You shut your eyes as the world lurches, up and down like a drunk person walking down a hallway. The bed dips and your stomach lurches, you are positive you’ve been thrown into the air. 

“Y/N?” He whispers it now and his hand rubs circles up and down your back. The touch sends shivers down your body and you hunch a little closer into yourself. 

“I’m fine,” You bite out but your voice is weak and you know it’s not really convincing. 

“How long?” Dean asks and you think about when the aura first started. 

“Just about-” Your vision greys out before you finish. There’s clips of sound, bright flashes of scenes that you can’t make sense of. Your mind is exploding and getting haphazardly pieced back together. 

Dean. His eyes. Green above you and as stationary as usual. He blinks and you watch his lashes flutter down to his cheekbones. The world around you is still a math problem you don’t have the logic to solve but you recognize Dean. You feel the soreness in your back first, radiating from your shoulder blades down to your lower back. It pangs one last time before aching. Your throat feels raw and you try to drown out the sounds you knew you made. 

“How long?” You ask when words are no longer theoretical. 

“Not too long,” It’s his usual answer and you don’t have the energy to stretch for accuracy. 

“I need my meds Dean,” Is all you say and you watch his face become grim. You struggle to sit up in the thin bed, the wallpaper peeling on the walls around you. You eye the bathroom but the rust around the edge of the tub makes you rethink a warm shower. You’ll have to deal with a tylenol and a heating pad instead. 

“I know, I know. I just-” His hand was tugging on the roots of his hair and you moved to brush it away. You curled your fingers into the dangerous hand. 

“We’ll figure it out. Where’s Sam?” Your eyes scan the tiny motel room and the window that overlooks the even smaller parking lot for the tall man. 

Dean looks exhausted when you look back over to him and you wonder if something happened to his little brother that you didn’t know about. 

“Sam?” You ask again and Dean glances back at you. 

“Oh, he’s uh… hustling pool,” You breathe a sigh because you were more worried than the fact that you were broke. Broke and unmedicated. Speaking of unmedicated, lights were going off in your vision again. Blue and green fireworks blooming like watercolors on paper.

“Dean, I’m going to have another one,” You moaned. You hated your epilepsy. Who the hell screwed up your brain so bad?

He has just enough time to get you on your side when the world blinks out like a tv being turned off. You can vaguely hear words but mostly it’s just the jolting sound of your stuttered breathing and the sickening slapping of your limbs on the sheets. 

He’s not the first thing you see this time when you wake up. Your head aches and the pain in your back has intensified. Meaning has yet to come back to you and all your thought float like butterflies too far to reach. Your stomach rolls and suddenly there’s a trash can underneath your chin as you vomit. Time is a trick to you in these moments, it exists for a moment before hopping away. 

“Tell him to hurry so I can fill up my prescription,” You gasp when reality decides to visit. 

It’d been a few weeks since you’d lost your job and your bank account wasn’t hefty enough to cover the pills. Your health insurance had gone out the window and you were reliving the days of your teenhood. 

You hadn’t gone this long without medication since then and you’d forgotten how upside down the seizures made you. Your usual was two a day but they could go up to six on the bad days. 

“We just need forty more dollars, Y/N,” Dean says and you wince, feeling bad for snapping at him. He’d been great with your illness but you needed these pills so you could go to interviews and get insured again. 

You sleep like the dead and wake up like a coma victim. All dry mouth and aching head and you just can’t seem to feel solid. Wholeness is a feeling you didn’t know was a privilege. 

You peel yourself out of a liquid state long enough to take a shower. Just a couple more days, just a few more dollars and you’ll be fine. It’s only with that thought that you can continue. 

**Author's Note:**

> The feedback means a lot to me so if you guys could kudos/review that'd be great!


End file.
